


Round Robin

by Neffectual



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Damian is 16, M/M, idk man, if that's something I have to warn for, it's legal here, orisor inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:56:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neffectual/pseuds/Neffectual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick has his reasons for keeping away from the other Robins, and not making their connection something sexual. But with Damian, it's different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Round Robin

There were too many reasons why Dick had never chosen to spread himself around with the other Robins. For a start, he was the original, the one they all had to live up to, the one for whom all the flexibility training meant nothing, the one for whom mischief was a calling, not just something to put on and take off with a mask. Dick Grayson, the original poster boy for daddy’s money, sharp suits and a smile that could only incite sin. All the others had to live up to him, whether they wanted to or not, and whether they thought they could do their job without also being the heir apparent to the Wayne family fortune. 

To some, Dick will always be Robin, his original costume an embarrassing relic that Jason still sniggers at every time he goes past its case in the Cave. But Bruce has chosen all his Robins in the same model; small, dark-haired, unfortunate family circumstances – whether those come after they take on the cape or before – and always with the strength and self-possession to become something more than just a sidekick. He doesn’t train them to be independent, to be intelligent or hard-working, these are all traits they learn for themselves. But Dick has made an effort to be more helpful in recent years, with the younger boys, maybe to make up for the way he made no effort with Jason.

 

Those in the caped community assume he and Jason had a thing years back, before Jason died and came back wrong, warped, darker – and it makes sense, as two sexually profligate young men, that they would have tried something a little closer to home for once in a while, but it never happened. Jason was arrogant, cocky, vicious, and Dick still wasn’t old enough to know how to cope with that, how to let go of being Robin when he had made it into the core of who he was. Jason had issues, was complicated, and Dick was young and stupid, and thought that easy and good were synonyms. He was too busy being bitter that he was losing Bruce’s attention to give more than a cursory look to Jason, and by the time he realised that something might have come of the two of them, Jason was dead. 

Still, as the his infuriating Little Wing was fond of saying, he got better, and there was a point, between all the madness and raging, the violence and Jason becoming a decent citizen, that Dick realises they’ve become the brothers he always swore they would never be. Jason gets off easy when it comes to public functions, not expected to take his place among the ranks of Wayne heirs, and likes to text Dick and wind him up about how he’s associating with Dick’s old flames. Does he miss Barbara, Kory, Roy…. Yes, of course. But Jason, annoying little shit that he is, is brother, family, bound together by something stronger than blood – by the sound of a cape in high winds, the scent of mask solvent, and a shared history that a thousand dismissive remarks can’t erase. For Dick to touch Jason, now, would be to denigrate that, to say brotherhood was not enough – and a lie.

 

Timmy was harder not to chase – the boy idolised him, wanted the circus lifestyle, the training, the flexibility, using his smaller stature to his best effect. It took Dick quite a while to realise that Tim was one of the most dangerous people he knew, all that menace hidden in slim limbs and a smile that had even the Teen Titans fooled. He was no Superboy, sure, no easy laugh or banter, but then, Gotham has always been home to the darker side of the heroes. The hero worship made it harder – and then easier. Tim is Babybird, baby brother, the one he was meant to protect and look after, swearing that, this time, it would be different. With Bruce still mourning Jason, he didn’t look after Tim the way he should have, but between Dick and Steph, they got him through okay, and he’s none the worse for it. 

He gets away with murder, the family nerd, all boy genius and not boy wonder, but Dick is okay with that, and now Tim is away at college, he misses the way Tim never hid from hugs, never dodged a high five, and always had time for his older brother, no matter what. He misses him on patrols, too, misses Red Robin, that familiar shape backing him up, and having someone who knows all of his moves down pat. Tim’s gorgeous, too, no doubt about that, and he’s got to know about it in the last few years, becoming a snappier dresser and hiding less of himself in baggy jeans, but he’s been little brother for too long for Dick to take an interest now. Besides, he rather suspects Tim has Superboy – Kon – wrapped around his little finger, and for all Bruce’s rules about no metas in Gotham, he strongly suspects they’re not as celibate as Batman would like. He makes a mental note to hide Bruce’s kryptonite when Timmy comes home from college.

 

Damian is a more difficult matter, and Dick is having trouble remembering why he’s supposed to stay away from the infuriating brat. There’s something like thirteen years between them, and Dick tries not to think about the fact that he was going through puberty when Damian was barely a zygote, but it’s there in every movement, every time Damian is faster, lither, more nimble. At ten he was a scrawny thing, all mouth and Bruce’s big blue eyes, but no guile. Time with the rest of the family has taught him that, and now, at sixteen, he’s something like Dick imagines Bruce might have been if he’d somehow been crossed with Jason and Poison Ivy. The kid goes from slick and flirty to weird and non-verbal in moments, happiest when with the Manor’s animals and away from people. He has a constant moue of disapproval on his face when Dick talks, and he can’t decide if he wants to slap or kiss it away. 

He could ignore it, before, but Babybat was his Robin, his own, and that’s a bond which has more connotations to it than simple trust. He took Damian under his wing, showed him the tricks, taught him how to move, to behave, to show himself off or make himself invisible in a crowd, and Dick loves seeing his old moves on Damian, so self-centred and self-assured. It’s a comfort, though, when Damian puts away the act and the two of them doze off on the Manor’s couches, watching some crappy movie, Dick’s hand lazily   
wrapped around one of Damian’s slim ankles, with Damian giving him his best ‘die, peon’ face.

“You are making that face again.” Damian says, always over-formal, and Dick jolts back to reality, musings hurrying away, “If I have to remind you once more that I am not a child – ”

Dick laughs as he rolls Damian – as the kid lets him, he has to remember, because he’s got a core of steel – to sit atop his lap, and grins at the disgruntled face he pulls.  
“I was only remembering – ”

“As old men do.” Damian interjects, and Dick pauses, before shaking his head and breaking into more laughter, “What, exactly, is funny, Grayson?”

He’ll never get it, Dick thinks, how Damian is both intimidating and an incredible Robin, but can’t help but look like an angry kitten whenever Dick messes with him.  
“Nothing, Dami,” he settles on, stretching up for a stolen kiss, which the boy allows him, despite the pout, “Robin thoughts.”

Damian cocks his head to one side, never more birdlike.  
“I’m your only Robin.” He says, and it’s not a question, never quizzical; a statement of fact, ownership. In this partnership, he knows exactly where he stands.

“My Robin.” Dick promises, a solemn oath. He has broken many before, and will break many hence, but this – this is the one he would die for.


End file.
